Stepping up next to my brother, I drape his arm around my shoulder and place my arm around his waist for support as I lift him to his feet. “Just tell me what the fuck you’re getting at,” I spit out. “I don’t like games.”
Nodding his head, a vicious smile spreads across his middle-aged face. It takes everything in me not to reach over and punch the smile right off his lips. “What do I want?” He gives me a hard look and shakes the rope. “What the fuck do I want?” Pointing to Alex, he looks me dead in the eyes. “I want you to pay for your brother’s incompetence . . . and that shit isn’t cheap.”
Frustration taking over, I let out a deep breath and run my bloodied hand down my face. This is the last thing I fucking need right now. I could almost kill Alex myself for being so stupid. “Get to the fucking point you sick son of a bitch,” I growl out.
“You fight in place of that little bitch brother of yours. It’s clear he can’t hold his own anymore.” Reaching in his pocket, he pulls out a wad of cash. “This pile would be a lot fucking thicker if it weren’t for his inabilities. You get me, mother fucker?”
Shaking my head, I ask the dreaded question; the one that is sure to get us both killed. “How much?”
Without hesitation, he spits out, “Fifty fucking grand.” He brings his dark eyes up to meet mine again. “I want what is mine. He owes me!” He points angrily at his chest, hands shaking. “He needed my help after your fuck up. It’s not my fault he chose to stay fucked out of his mind and useless to me. He’s lost me more money than he’s won. This was his last shot at redeeming himself. Now . . . it’s all in your hands. Fight to pay off the money he owes and your brother can keep his life, and maybe even his limbs. I’m so pissed, I haven’t fucking decided.”
Remembering where I’m at, I glance around me to see that someone must have ushered the crowd somewhere else, because all that remains is a small group of men in business suits, all standing guard.
Well, lucky fucking me.
“I don’t fight anymore. I’m done.” I start walking Alex out of the ring, knowing that there’s no way we’re both getting out of here alive unless I take his offer. I try anyway. Why . . . because I’m a hardheaded son of a bitch.
A hand grips my shoulder and yanks me back. Out of instinct I swing my elbow back, connecting it with a jaw. I hear a loud crack before the sound of feet shuffling across the cement at me.
“That’s enough!” Asher’s voice echoes throughout the warehouse, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand. Everyone freezes on command, obviously aware of what this man is capable of. “This is your last chance. Be here this Friday night at midnight or the offer no longer stands. You got me, Memphis?”
Without looking back I walk Alex off the stage and push my way through the men in suits. I can feel his eyes burn into me. I can imagine the shit-eating grin on his face, knowing that he’s won. At least, I’ll let him think that. I need to figure this shit out.
His words repeat in my head as I push our way out into the cool night air and slam Alex against my truck.
“You fucked me, Alex! Consider my ass dead.”
I close my eyes and Lyric flashes through my mind, making my whole world stand still at the thought of fucking shit up and never seeing her again. She’s the only thing that silences the demons and makes me feel alive.
Just when my life was beginning to fucking make sense . . . it crumbles around me. Well fuck me to hell and back.
IT WAS A LONG DAY at the tattoo shop, and I swore if I had to spend another minute there I was going to choke someone. Styles was being unusually annoying and Ryan was just in a really pissy mood. I thought about kicking his leg out from under him a few times, but decided that I didn’t want to listen to him whine about it. I just can’t take anymore shit today.
I’ve been off work for the last two hours and have been contemplating whether or not I want to confront Memphis about what happened the other night. You don’t just let yourself into someone’s room and give them the greatest fucking orgasm they’ve ever had and then walk away as if it never happened. A part of me wants to yell at him, then tell him to fuck off and never talk to me again. I doubt I’ll be able to do that though.
Bailey looks up from the TV and tosses me a bag of chocolate covered raisins. “Here, take these. You look like you need to put something in your mouth.”
I tear the bag open and pour myself a handful. “No, what I need is to get something out of my mouth.” I sit up, suddenly angry. “I mean who the fuck does Memphis think he is?”